


A Bit of Good News

by DualWieldingCousland (DualWieldingMama)



Series: The Other Regan [21]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-11
Updated: 2015-07-11
Packaged: 2018-04-06 21:38:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4237563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DualWieldingMama/pseuds/DualWieldingCousland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Cullen isn’t in his usual spot waiting for her, Regan gets concerned.  Cullen has doubts about his ability to perform his duties as Commander.  And in the end, there’s a little good news.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Bit of Good News

It had been nearly two months. How could it have been so long? He paced, looked out the window, prayed to see her riding back. He walked the battlements, staring out at the bridge, waiting to see her. Maker, he hated this. He thought it would bother him, everyone knowing … talking about them, especially while she was gone. But now, with it actually happening, he found he didn’t care; that didn’t bother him. What bothered him was he didn’t know what was happening to her; he couldn’t protect her, didn’t even know if she was really alright. He just wanted her back. “Maker, where is she? Why hasn’t she returned?” It was dark now. He had no hope of actually seeing her if she crossed the bridge, but he still looked, waited, wished. He fell asleep staring out the window, his head against the stone.

They rode in later than she’d planned, arriving just after midday. The only ones waiting for them were the few guards posted at the gate. She couldn’t help but feel a little sad that someone wasn’t there to greet her. 

“No welcome wagon?” Dorian frowned, looking around. It was odd not to see Josephine, Leliana or Cullen waiting for them, especially lately. He knew Cullen watched and waited for her to arrive every time he got word they would be returning. That he wasn’t here was … odd.

“Pain, frustration - He hurts, but not like the normal hurt; it’s not a hurt I can fix.” Cole frowned, not liking when he couldn’t help. 

“Go on, Inquisitor,” Dorian was puzzled, and hearing something about pain didn’t make him feel any better. “Go find your man.”

“Yeah, boss,” Bull chimed in, not feeling particularly thrilled with Cole’s statement either. “We’ll take care of everything here. 

Regan forced a smile. “He’s not mine, Dorian.”

“Whatever you say, Inquisitor. Just … go make sure he’s alright?” Dorian and Bull shared a sly smile as the mage shook his head. Could the girl really not see it?

She shook her head, thanked them before dismounting and heading for Cullen’s office. She had … hoped he would be there to meet her. Maybe it was presumptuous, but after everything that had gone on between them, she’d just … kind of expected that he’d be there, waiting for her. She even had a whole thing scripted in her head. She had pictured him waiting with open arms and a relieved smile on his face, her running into his arms, being swept up and kissed, like he had taken to doing before she left. But … no one was here, waiting for her. Something didn’t seem … right.

She climbed the stairs to the battlements slowly, dodging the occasional runner. It was … odd. No one stopped her, no one spoke. She stood outside his door, took a breath. Maybe he was just … napping. Sure; that’s why he wasn’t there, waiting for her – he had worked himself to the point of exhaustion again. Or he had gotten pulled into another meeting. There were countless reasons he hadn’t been there, right? Hand on his door, nerves in her throat. She pushed the door open and … he wasn’t there. A … runner … soldier … someone was standing next to his desk; she felt a tiny pull of jealousy, wondering why this woman was here, but she stuffed it down.

“If you’re looking for the Commander, he’s in a meeting with Lady Cassandra near the armory.” 

“Thank you … um ….” Not for the first time did Regan wish she knew all the runners’ names, like Leliana did. She didn’t want to be the kind of person who didn’t know the names of the people working for her. 

“Mel’nior,” the woman supplied. “Mel for short.”

“Thank you, Mel,” Regan sighed, rubbing her eyes. She’d been on the road too long, just trying to get back. She just wanted to see him, then go to bed for hours. “Any idea what it’s about?”

“Not a one, ma’am. My orders were to wait here until you showed, ma’am. Tell you he was busy in a meeting and would be back … when he could.”

“Dismissed,” Regan nodded. She took a breath and headed back out, making her way down the stairs and across the courtyard to the armory. As she approached the door, she could hear familiar voices. She listened at the door, trying to figure out what they were talking about. Was it safe for her to interrupt?

“You asked for my opinion and I’ve given it,” she heard Cassandra’s voice. This was the right place, at least. “Why would you expect it to change?” What was she talking about?

“I expect you to keep your word!” Was that …? It sounded like … almost like … Cullen? She’d never heard him sound so … angry … so frustrated. “It’s relentless. I can’t ….”

Cassandra interrupted, “You give yourself too little credit.”

She heard heavy feet on the floor, pacing. “If I am unable to fulfill what vows I kept, then nothing good has come of this!” Concerned, she pushed the door open. “Would you rather save face than admit …?” Cullen looked over, eyes met hers, briefly. He couldn’t bear the concern, the worry he saw. His shoulders fell, a look of utter defeat clouded his features. He moved for the door, twisting so he didn’t even touch her. “Forgive me,” he whispered before disappearing into the courtyard.

“And people say I’m stubborn,” Cassandra muttered, shaking her head. “This is ridiculous.” She looked Regan in the eye, hoping the commander had the foresight to at least inform her of something. “Cullen told you that he is no longer taking lyrium?”

Regan nodded, crossing her arms over her chest. “He did, and I respect his decision.”

“As do I,” Cassandra agreed. “Not that he’s willing to listen. Cullen asked that I recommend a replacement for him.” She saw Regan open her mouth to say … something, and hurried on. “I refused. It’s not necessary. Besides, it would destroy him. He’s come so far.”

“Why didn’t he come to me with this?” Regan asked, fighting the urge to pout. She knew it shouldn’t bother her … that he didn’t feel safe enough, comfortable enough, to come to her with this. But it did. A small part of her was extremely hurt that he had felt close enough to Cassandra … and not to her. 

“We had an agreement long before you joined us.” Cassandra seemed oblivious to the mental gymnastics going on in the Inquisitor’s head. “As a Seeker, I could evaluate the dangers. And, he ….” She looked over and sighed, wondering a little at just how things had happened … gotten this far … between the pair. She didn’t object, really; it was almost like one of those stories she enjoyed … almost. “He would not want to … risk your disappointment.”

“My … disappointment?” Regan repeated, stunned, wondering why he’d worry that she’d be disappointed. “Can we … is there any way to change his mind … about the replacement, I mean?” She dropped her arms, wrung her hands nervously. 

“If anyone could, it’s you. He knows you have great faith in him; he doesn’t want to do anything to lessen that faith.” Cassandra looked toward the fire, closing her eyes. “Mages have made their suffering known, but … templars never have. They are bound to the order, mind and soul, with someone always holding their lyrium leash.” She turned, looking from Regan to the door and back. “Cullen has a chance to break that leash. He can prove to himself, and anyone who would follow suit, that it is possible.” She rested a hand on her shoulder. “He can do this. I knew that when we met in Kirkwall. Talk to him, help him. Decide if … now is the time.”

Regan nodded slowly, looking over at the fire. She knew he could do this. He was so much stronger than he gave himself credit for. She wasn’t sure how she knew … she just did. “I’ll go see him now,” she whispered, patting Cassandra on the arm as she passed. 

The walk to his office seemed to take forever. She tried to figure out what she wanted to say, what he needed to hear. She neared, noticed his door was wide open. He never left his door open, ever. She started through the door, saw him hunched over his desk, staring at that stupid box. She looked away, wondering what to say … to do. She heard a roar, looked up, just in time to twist, dodging that same box as it came flying past, shattering against the stone and wood. 

Cullen whipped his head up, saw her twist, saw the shards of wood and glass barely miss her face, blue liquid splattering on her armor. “Maker’s breath!” he exclaimed, starting for her. “I didn’t hear you enter. I … I ….” He reached for her, wanting to hold her, apologize … something. He’d forgotten she was due to return, hadn’t been there to greet her … nearly taken her head off with that damned lyrium kit. For the second time that day, he found himself sighing, dropping his gaze, and whispering, “Forgive me.”

“Well, as long as you weren’t aiming for me, I’d say that box deserved it.” She tried to tease, use humor to lighten a situation she wasn’t sure of. All she got was a hesitant attempt at a smile. “Cullen, if you need to talk ….”

“You don’t have to ….” He started around his desk, turned the corner and stumbled, catching himself on the edge. Reports tumbled to the ground and he found he didn’t care. “I … I never meant for any of this to interfere.”

She darted forward, slipped an arm around him, helping him to his feet. “I believe you,” she whispered, making sure he was steady before easing her grip. “It’s not interfering, by the way.” 

“For whatever good it does,” he muttered, pushing away from her. He hated that she was seeing him like this, had never wanted her to see him like this. “Promises mean nothing if I cannot keep them.” He started pacing, doing his best to ignore the hurt look on her face as he moved away. “You once asked what happened at Ferelden’s Circle. It was … taken over by abominations. The templars … my friends … were slaughtered.” He managed to pace his way to the window, stared out so he didn’t have to look at her. He was so sure she would be disgusted with him; he was disgusted with himself. “I … was tortured. They … demons, blood mages … tried to break my mind … used my … my feelings against me, and I ….” He laughed, frustrated and totally without humor. “How can you be the same person after that? Still, I wanted to serve.” He turned to face her, still not looking at her eyes. “They sent me to Kirkwall. I trusted my knight-commander, and for what, hmm? Her fear of mages ended in madness. Kirkwall’s Circle fell. Innocent people died in the streets and I was expected to … to …. Can’t you see why I want nothing to do with that life?”

“Of course, I can,” she told him, moving closer. She hated seeing him like this, wanted to help. She wanted to make everything ok again. “I ….” She reached for him.

“Don’t!” Cullen interrupted, digging fingers into his hair violently, jerking away from her. “You should be questioning what I’ve done.” He shoved away from the window and practically stalked to the bookshelves. “I thought this would be better; that I would regain some kind of control over my life. But these thoughts won’t leave me.” He gritted his teeth, kept pacing back and forth between the bookshelves and his desk, staying just out of reach. “How many lives depend on our success? I swore myself to this cause! I will not give less to the Inquisition than I did to the Chantry! I should be taking it.” He was back in front of the bookshelves. His fist shot out, slamming into the wood, sending books tumbling. “I should be taking it!” His voice came out as practically a hiss, either from pain or from frustration. He could feel the tears burning in his eyes, but he couldn’t let them fall … he just … couldn’t. 

She reached out, gently pulled his hand from the bookshelf. She needed to get the glove off, see if it was broken. “This doesn’t have to be about the damned Inquisition,” she whispered. “It doesn’t have to be about me, or Cassandra, or anyone else. Is this what you want?” 

He sighed, finally looking at her, searching out her eyes. He didn’t see the disgust he had been sure would be there, saw only concern, worry. “No,” he finally replied, shaking his head. The tears finally escaped, streaking down his cheeks. “But these memories have always haunted me. If they become worse … if I … if I cannot endure this ….”

“You can,” she whispered, reaching up to wipe his cheeks dry. “You will. I … I know you can do this. I’ll help however I can.”

“Alright.” His voice didn’t rise above a whisper. He reached up with his good hand and just held her fingers to his cheek. His eyes drifted to the hand he’d used to beat up the bookcase and winced, pain finally registering. He watched as she worked to pull the glove from his hand. 

“Let’s get this taken care of,” she murmured, examining his wounded hand carefully. It was bruised, a little bloody from small cuts. “I don’t think you broke anything, but you might want to take it easy on the practice field for a few days.” She lifted his hand to her lips and brushed gentle kisses against his battered knuckles. “My nanny always used to say kisses could have magical healing properties, even if you weren’t a mage. I’d like to think it might be true”  
She led him to his desk, gently guided him into his chair, for once devoid of books. She smiled. She released his hand, set it gently on his lap. She rooted around in his desk drawers, grumbling when she couldn’t find what she was looking for. “Wait here,” she whispered, leaning close to his ear. “I will be back in two minutes, promise.” She brushed a kiss against his cheek and darted from the room.  
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***   
“You’re late,” he whispered as she burst through the door again, glancing at the candle on his desk. He was still sitting, wounded hand cradled in his good one. He smiled awkwardly as she approached, dropped to her knees in front of him and took his hand. His ears burned as he wondered just what she thought she was doing there. “Thought you said two minutes.”

“Had to avoid some people in the main hall,” she explained as she cleaned the small cuts. “Besides, I didn’t think you’d actually time me.” She spread a small bit of paste from a pouch she had taken from her desk over the cuts and bruises, then wrapped a strip of cloth around everything. “This should take care of it in a day or so. No more attacking bookcases?” She tied the bandage off, looked up at him through her lashes, still tenderly holding the wounded hand.

He stared at her, swallowing hard. She was so close, right in front of him, nestled between his legs, looking up at him with those eyes, that smile. He flushed, swallowing tightly as he nodded. “The … bookcases will be safe from here on out,” he whispered. He had to get his thoughts straight. “I … thank you, Regan.” He leaned over, reached out to rest fingertips against her cheek. “You … don’t know how much … your faith means to me.”

She bit her lip, closed her eyes, leaned into his hand. “You ever feel like you’re losing yourself again, come find me. Anytime; day or night.” She rested her hands on his thighs, used them as support as she stood. He watched as her tongue flicked out to wet her lips, saw her swallow and ears turn pink. “You made for quite the homecoming, love.”

There was that word again. Did she know she said it, know what it did to him every time he heard it? Did she mean it? “Do you know … I mean … um ….” He closed his eyes, took a breath. Why was it so hard to have a complete thought around her? “Did you hear? We received a report from some of our scouts. Two men, matching your descriptions, have been spotted – a mage and a templar … traveling together.” He stood up slowly as she took a few steps back.

“You really think it’s them?” She couldn’t believe it. They might have actually found her brothers, and they were together! When he nodded, she couldn’t help herself. She leapt at him, wrapped her arms and legs around him and kissed him, hard. 

He groaned, arms wrapping around her, holding her tight against him. When they finally broke for air, he licked his lips, smiled hungrily at her. “I should give you good news more often,” he laughed. “If that’s the response I’ll get.” He leaned in to nuzzle her neck, just under her jaw. He brushed soft kisses against her skin before letting her down again. “According to the reports, they are near Redcliff. I have men clearing the way ahead of them, and Leliana has scouts watching over them, from the shadows. They are probably planning to restock in town and someone should be … herding them this way after. So should I assume you will be staying until they arrive?” 

“Corypheus himself couldn’t drag me away,” she grinned before returning her lips to his.


End file.
